My boots slosh in the mixture of sand in the snow as I rounded the first intersection on my way home. The Sun is going down earlier now, and I only noticed because nothing else around me has changed. The cars, roads, and silence are all the same. Unfortunately, you're the same too. I cannot continue to grasp the icicles that are your hands, or be the target anymore. My ears have been clogged from the times you spit at me through words of anger. I will soon drain them so I can hear myself say goodbye.